


Saurophile

by Hoodoo



Series: The Bar at the End of the Universe [9]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anthropomorphic Rick, Bar, Brief appearance by Ricky Sanchez of "Denied", Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mild Language, One Night Stand, Tongues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: A Rick you've never, ever seen before--nay, never even imagined may exist!--comes into the Bar. Of course you're intrigued, but . . . can it even be physically possible?





	Saurophile

Another night, another dollar. Or two stupid flurbos, if it’s from that dick Ricky who drinks a metric tonne of shitty beer and _still_ refuses to give you the time of day.

You go to deliver another pint to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you. As you’re setting it on the bar, however, your gaze catches the sight of a new Rick entering. A brand-new, never-seen-before, never-even- _imagined_ Rick. 

At least, you think it’s a Rick. Same tall, lanky build, same lab coat, same better than everyone else attitude—

You set the glass down in a hurry, sloshing some of the beer out.

“Hey! Watch it!” Ricky grumbles, finally looking up.

You toss a ratty bar rag in his general direction. “I’m sure you’ve mopped up worse in that _fine establishment_ of yours,” you tell him, and step away, to be ready for this new patron.

Ricky catches it with a glower and glances behind himself to see what’s captured your attention. 

“You’re such a whore, you bitch—“ he doesn’t say under his breath.

You ignore him, but because you still need to keep a job, you take the rag back from him and wipe down the mess you’ve made.

This new Rick sidled up to the bar and tapped on it.

His fingers were longer than typical, and tipped with skinny, sharp nails. His hands, nay, his entire body that you could see was covered with fine, overlapping scales. A moderate frill extended out from his head instead of the standard blue-ish hair, and a few horns graced his head. 

And did he have . . .? Yes. You strained a little, trying to not be too conspicuous, but you could confirm he had a tail.

You lick your lips. 

_“Seriously?”_ Ricky choke-laughs. “I’ve seen a lot of weird shit in my day, but you getting hot and bothered by a fucking Lizard Rick has to be pretty high on the list.”

“Maybe if _you’d_ put out—“ you counter, and leave the implication dangling.

He glares over the tops of his glasses at you. 

You give him a sweet smile. “There’s that rewarding look of distain I’m so familiar with, Ricky! From you, it’s like a big hug.”  


If his scowl got any deeper, the corners of his lips would be on his chin.

Lizard Rick taps the bar again, and you flounce away from Ricky, ignoring the, “Fuck you, whore,” that follows you.

You stop in front of this brand-new Rick.

“Hi handsome,” you purr. “What’ll it be?”

⁂ 

“S-s-so, are you ori-originally from a dimension of—oh _god_ —Lizard people? Or-or—“

Your words are stuttered from the gasping you can’t control and the fact your brain is trying very hard to shut down higher mental functions to focus on what is happening between your thighs.

You’d never bedded a Rick so quickly.

Lizard Rick was receptive to your flirting, almost to the point of being too eager. He’d waited, as you suggested, till the end of your shift, but before you could do your standard cleaning, he’d whisked your away by portal. You’d barely had time to yell to your co-workers you were sorry, you’d make it up to them, you promised! before you were pulled into your bedroom.

There’d been no niceties or even time to discuss what was expected. Lizard Rick was impatient as only a Rick could be, quickly stripping you. You’d attempted to return the favor, but his spikes and tail made it more cumbersome than normal, and you finally let him disrobe without your help.

He was paler on his belly, with bands of scales here instead of smaller, individual ones. His groin was smooth with no evidence of a cock—this might be weirder than you’d bargained for.

You’d also kissed him, but scaled lips didn’t have quite the same malleability as what you were used to, so that was off the table too. 

It crossed your mind you didn’t know what exactly _could_ happen between the two of you; he obviously expected something, or he would have never agreed to accompany you home—

His tongue slid leisurely out of his mouth and flicked yours indecently. You couldn’t contain a gasp, and with a look of smugness you’d never expected could be discerned on a face like his, he’d picked you up and dropped you to your back on your mattress.

He was between your thighs, hiking your legs up and over his shoulders to tilt your pelvis back and provide better access, with his mouth on your pussy before you could protest or agree.

That tongue tickled your clit, slipped down through your folds, and then dipped inside you. You squirmed against him, and felt guilty that you hadn’t gotten much information from him; hence your stuttering attempt at asking him about himself. 

He lifted his head and stared you down with reptilian eyes. 

His reply was unconcealed disbelief. “D-d-do you really want me answering qu-questions right now?” 

Wondering if replying “no” confirmed that you were the whore you’d been called twice tonight, you hesitate. Rick cocks his brow at you and you suddenly don’t care what it looks like.

“No. No! Rick, I don’t—I mean, don’t stop, _please—“_

The conceit that held all Ricks from all dimensions together by an invisible thread was not lost on this one. With a smirk that you’d begged him, he dropped his mouth to you again.

That tongue—oh god, that _tongue._ You’re been eaten out before by so many Ricks and they ran the gamut of perfunctory to spending a bit more time than normal between your legs to enthusiastic. This Rick tipped the scale passed that point: he ate pussy with a zeal like he was defending a championship title.

He teased. He alternated heavy and light touches with the precision of an artist. He pushed you to the edge of orgasm then backed off, again and again.

Your throat grew hoarse from the moans and gasps he pulled out of you.

His tongue was thinner, about finger’s width, but it was slick and he had amazing control of it. The split tips encircled your clit without having to make much movement, unlike a human tongue, and he could apply varying amounts of pressure on a whim. He coupled that with three slim fingers up your cunt—you had no idea how he kept his nails from injuring you, especially when you couldn’t control your own movements and bucked against him. 

The pleasure that he wrought on you was white hot. Unchecked, primal sounds were torn from your throat; typically you could urge Ricks on but you were so gone words could not be formed. The sensation radiating from your clit crossed to sharp and painful and, sobbing, you had to press a hand to his forehead to make him back off.

Rick complied but didn’t completely stop; instead he dipped lower and slipped his tongue into you, alongside the fingers still buried to his third knuckle in your cunt.

That gave your poor beautifully aching clit a reprieve, shifting the pleasure to your stretched pussy. You then discovered that not only did he have dexterity in that tongue, but strength too. He used it to put incredible pressure along the inside wall to stimulate your g-spot.

You howled.

Voluntary control of any major muscle group was lost. Your head dropped and you arched your lower back. With your legs over his shoulders, you had nothing to brace yourself against, but your thighs closed around his head and you couldn’t even care; wave after wave of sheer bliss washed over you, pulling you away from reality for an infinite moment.

Eventually, though, Rick slid his tongue back out of you. In stages he slowly removed his fingers too. You were left feeling empty, even as residual tremors shook you.

Before he disengaged completely, he ran his tongue the length of your pussy and flicked your clit with a deliberate amount of weight one last time.

Already primed, you cried out again and an aftershock of pleasure, like the quickest orgasm you’d ever experience, shot through you again.

You felt rather than saw Rick settled at your side. Your vision was blurry with tears, you were covered in sweat, and you could feel that the sheets were soaked under you. Typically you prided yourself on being able to recover after an orgasm—you didn’t want your guests to get impatient!—but it took some time to focus on him.

When you did, you took the hand he’d used on you and brought it to your mouth.

Slowly, carefully, you sucked each of his fingers clean. Between licks, you asked, 

“So . . . what can I do for you, Rick?”

He watched you intently. His mouth opened but no sound came out; you did, however, watch his tongue cross his lips and flicker a bit, like testing the air.

“Will you tell me?” you ask. “I’ve never . . . been with a Rick like you, but I’ll do what you want.”

A half smile, gone before it was completely formed, crossed his face.

“I—it’s nice, you d-doing that,” he said, as you continued to suck his fingers. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you replied, encouragingly. You released his forefinger with a ‘pop!’ “What else can I do?”

That half smile started again, but this time he shook his head. 

“Nothing. There’s nothing to do.”

With the tip of his middle finger between your lips, you looked a question at him.

Rick, pressed against you, made a motion with his chin to indicate himself. “I’m not-not like other Ricks, baby. No dick that you’d be interested in, unless you have a cloaca. And I got a g-good look down there. You have a sweet pussy, but nothing that’ll work for me.”

You cocked your head in confusion. 

He sighed. “It just won’t work, baby. Trust me on this.”

“No sex? No blow job?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

He didn’t sound overtly sad, but you felt guilty. “So there’s nothing? Really?”

Rick smiled just a bit. “Well, if y-y-you insist . . . can I just st-stay here, beside you, for tonight? You’re so fucking warm . . .”

It dawned on you, in gradual degrees that probably made you seem even slower compared to him than normal, that his metabolism was different than yours. Reptile versus mammal, you realized, remembering bits of basic biology from mandatory schooling. You couldn’t decline him.

You found a hot water bottle and heated it up in your microwave. After changing the sheets and putting new flannel ones on the mattress, you piled another blanket on the bed. The now toasty water bottle went to the foot of the bed. You stayed nude, and so did he. 

You both slipped under the heavy blankets and he tucked himself against you. Within minutes the temperature was almost too warm for you—you always ran a little high—but Rick sighed in delight and pushed as much of his body against you as possible.

Snugged in tight, Rick told you about his dimension and planet. It was populated by Lizard people—he called his people by their proper name; it was very sibilant and difficult to pronounce with a non-split human tongue. His planet was warmed by two suns and was mostly desert, unlike so many other places in the universe. He told you he’d been persecuted for crimes and fled to the Citadel, but wasn’t specific about what type of crimes, exactly, and you didn’t push. 

Although he hadn’t been to his home world in long time, the pull of the long seasons was ingrained and he knew it was mating season there. 

There weren’t any others of his kind that he was aware of off planet, but the compulsion to couple with a female was strong . . . he’d heard rumors of you and sought you out. He’d never been with a mammal before, and although consummation was impossible, some of his urges were dispelled with what he was able to do to you.

That didn’t make much sense to you really, but he waved off deeper explanations with vague talk about pheromones and vicarious living.

You let him talk and talk. Eventually you couldn’t keep your eyelids open any longer, and you drifted to sleep with his now warmer body still wrapped around yours, soaking in as much as the body temperature as he could.

It’s been an unusual night, but definitely not an unpleasant one.

_fin._


End file.
